Flying solo on a wing and a prayer

AMS Staff | 26 September 2006

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What happens when no one turns up for church? KATRIN ARNHOLZ gets a bird’s eye view of life in a remote township.

As soon as the propeller of the Cessna 206 starts to turn all surrounding noises are absorbed by its droning. The six-seater takes off over the red rocks of Pentecost and Cockburn ranges, and crosses seemingly endless brown mud plains interspersed by mangroves and the meandering King River.

Anglican minister Peter Palmer and his wife Joy – associates with the Bush Church Aid Society – are on their way to Oombulgurri – an Aboriginal community 34 kilometres from Wyndham in Northwest Australia. That is as the crow flies – other options of reaching Oombulgurri are a 600 km dirt track or a two-hour boat ride on the crocodile infested river.

There hadn’t been any Anglican minister in charge of Wyndham and Oombulgurri for ten years before Peter Palmer accepted the job in 2002.

The first action Palmer took was to clear the vines in the church building in Oombulgurri, throw out the garbage, sweep out dirt and dust. And he needed to adjust his attitude: “It wouldn’t work to just walk out onto the street, bang the drum and people would come to church again,” he says. “It takes a lot of work and time to earn people’s trust and become part of the community.”

Oombulgurri was established as Forrest River Mission first in 1897 – but the first Anglican missionaries didn’t stay for very long. They feared for their lives as they were speared several times. The mission really established itself in 1913. A lot of the people who now live in Oombulgurri or Wyndham are descendants of the “Stolen Generation”.

Between approximately 1900 and 1972, according to a government inquiry, at least 35.000 Aboriginal children, most of them of mixed descent, were removed from their families by Australian government agencies and church missions. The objective was to assimilate them and breed the Aboriginal race out of existence by ensuring marriage with Caucasians.

Another event shed an equally sad light on Oombulgurri: The 1926 Forrest River Massacre. No one really knows how many Aboriginal people the police killed. However, two constables were arrested, tried for murder but acquitted. Each was then promoted and posted away from the East Kimberley.

There have been more recent violations against Aborigines by unfaithful Caucasian community administrators. Hence, it is not surprising that with this history in mind, Peter Palmer has a hard job to do if he wants to earn trust. “These people had so many bad experiences they don’t trust anyone,” Palmer says. “We need to break down all those barriers and build trust.”

The second action he took when he started in Oombulgurri was to help the mechanic erect a car hoist. Since 2002, Peter Palmer has been a volunteer with the Fire and Emergency Services Authority (FESA) of West Australia and has been on rescue missions many times.

As a bi-vocational minister, Palmer has for the past four years held different jobs which helped him to become more a part of the community as well. He was the town butcher, prison officer, airport reporting officer and casual orderly at the hospital. As of 2006, Palmer is the first Chaplain in West Australia to serve both the police as well as FESA in the entire Kimberley region.

“My work is not time oriented but people oriented,” he emphasises. Sometimes he needs fours hours to reach the post office – which is just across the street – because he is talking with so many people. “I sit with people when they are sober, listen to them and try to learn about their culture,” he says.

Oombulgurri nowadays has about 100 inhabitants. ‘About 90 percent of the adults drink to excess”, Palmer estimates. Consequences of alcohol consumption in the community as well as in Wyndham are child rape, domestic violence, suicides. Seven people took their lives in the first five months of this year. All of them had alcohol in their blood. “Some girls I know have four locks on their doors,” Palmer says. “They are afraid of their own families.”

Kathy Carlton used to be an alcoholic. The 49-year old Aboriginal woman ended up in hospital one day and met Peter Palmer. After hearing the gospel she wanted to be baptised and change her life immediately. “From erratic she went immediately calm and peaceful”, Palmer remembers. ‘Then we spent weeks following up on what actually happened.”

Sadly enough, Kathy Carlton is the exception. At this point, Peter Palmer often enough prepares a sermon and has no-one show up at church in Oombulgurri.

However, he is not worried. “What God wants to happen will happen,” he says and goes on to telling the story about how 20 young men at once became Christians in Arnhemland. The Palmers used to be missionaries there for five years, and during that time had their door open for these young men to come in and listen to music, play music, read books. “Nothing happened when we were there, but after we left they all at once wanted to live their lives with Jesus,” Palmer recalls.

“For some people all they need to see is a good example,” he continues. So he keeps going to Oombulgurri – even if no one turns up at church - because “what counts is to be present”.

And in Wyndham itself he continues building up young followers such as Kathy Carlton. After her conversion Carlton within months started leading the Drop-in Centre in Wyndham, and presently manages the Sobering-Up Shelter in the same town.

In the past, she used to drink when she felt down. Now she prays. “God listens to me and lifts me up,” she says and can’t stop telling her fellow Aboriginal people: “Don’t wait too long to change – or it will be too late.”

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